Demands
by decloved
Summary: Enjolras demanded and Enjolras was obeyed. After all, who he was to deny a God anything. E/R slash.


**Warnings:** contains slash, non descriptive mentions of sexual intercourse, quite possibly sucks

Grantaire shivered as he realized the pair of intensely blue eyes that was fixed on him. The pair of eyes that always gazed at him with enough power to question his whole life, all his choices, habits and beliefs. The very same pair of eyes which drilled him to the bone and made him feel so painfully naked and exposed. His hand, and by extension the glass in it, froze half the distance from his mouth. How could he take even a sip, under that persistent glare? Feeling sudden disgust at the very thought of liquor he put it away. He could swear he saw a flicker of content in the eyes that for the last few seconds have been studying him so carefully. Even though Enjolras was no longer looking at him, he didn't finish the drink. He simply sat there contemplating the influence the other man had over him, and whether it was a truly bad thing.

He didn't really remember how it all started. He couldn't recall whether Enjolras first approached him, or the other way around. That was during the time when perpetual inebriation was a natural state to him, and that period was very blurred in his memories. Nevertheless, it begun, and on one of the first days of their, from the lack of a better word, relationship he was met with a demand. Stop drinking. And he complied. Not entirely. Not at first. But he did. It took him ages to get past the initial withdrawal as after each significant progress, he eventually succumbed to charms of alcohol again. Enjolras was patient with him. Uncharacteristically patient, almost. Like he understood how hard was what he was asking for. He couldn't, though. Because, at least in Grantaire's view, nothing was ever difficult for Enjolras.

After the first demand came the second and after the second came the third. And he felt obliged to fulfill all of them. After all how could a man refuse God's orders? For that was how he perceived their relationship. A deity and a loyal worshipper. He tried hard to stop as that was the second demand.

'I am no God, stop calling me that.' Enjolras said and Enjolras was obeyed.

The third thing he was asked for was in short to start seeing them as equals. Evidently, Enjolras didn't want a follower. Perhaps oblivious to how many people see him as divine. The truth was, that few people considered themselves Enjolras' peers. Grantaire of all felt least worthy to do so. But he could act as if he were, to please his beloved.

There were several more requests, some easier to follow some harder. Grantaire complied gleefully. How could he not? If those were things that made him more worthy of God's attention then they were worth the effort, however difficult they were.

He watched Enjolras give another speech. He listened, but words didn't seem to reach him. Perhaps he was to focused on the sweet timbre of his voice. Or maybe the sweet, red lips from where the words escaped were the biggest distraction. Or maybe it was the fluid movement of his pale and slender fingers. Or even the glint of passion so evident in his eyes and the determination gracing his delicate features.

When he no longer could bear the majestic sight that was Enjolras his gaze traveled to the glass of wine in front of him. He felt the sudden urge to bring it to his mouth and to drink the nectar inside. When the temptation became too great he simply stood up and left the café. A short walk should be enough to clear his head.

It wasn't enough however. With each step he took the desire increased. Giving in would mean forsaking the progress he has been making for the last few months. And quite possibly ending his relationship with Enjolras, whose patience couldn't last forever. Would one glass really do any harm, he asked himself. No, but it never ends with one glass, he answers immediately. Looking around him, he only saw taverns, tempting him to step in for a sip or two. Or three, or five , or... He looked at his hands. They were shaking violently. Helpless and unsure of what to do, he directed his steps towards his flat.

When he got there he was surprised to see that the door was ajar, not locked like he left it. Already thinking of the worst, he held his breath as he approached the door. He exhaled deeply in relief when he saw that everything was exactly the same as he left it. Except for one small detail. A slender figure sprawled on his bed. Pale skin and snow white shirt contrasting the dirty bed sheets. At that side his heart jumped in his chest.

As usual he was less than enthusiastic when it came to getting rid of clothes. He slapped Grantaire's hand away when he tried to help. Meticulously, and painfully slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt, then folded it neatly. His pants followed shortly. After what seemed an eternity he was finally naked, draped in bedsheets and sighing loudly.

Enjolras seemed not to enjoy love making as much as Grantaire did. His moves seemed calculated and not at all in-the-heat-of-a-moment like. All touches he made had a sense of purpose to them. Instead of relaxed, like one should be during such acts, he appeared stiff and tense. Grantaire would have felt guilty for such an obvious lack of enjoyment on his lover's part if not for what usually followed. After they were done, Enjolras would always melt into his embrace and stay there until they both fell asleep. Settled comfortably against him he would talk to him for hours. More often telling him about his day or speaking about the world he was trying to create. Decidedly less often, he would whisper declarations of love into his ear.

Grantaire cherished each and every word that came out of Enjolras' mouth. But words of affection were the ones he treasured especially. He heard them so rarely after all. He took great care to remember them and later he repeated them to himself when in doubt or in need of reassurance.

'I love you.' he said, planting numerous kisses on top of Enjolras' head, in hopes of getting a similar response.

'Me too.'

Came a muffled reply. Enjolras' face firmly pressed to Grantaire's chest. He pulled away for a second and said:

'Talk to me.'

That an even rarer occurrence. Enjolras was always very content to fill the silence with his own voice. Hardly did he request to be spoken to.

'What about?' Grantaire asked caressing Enjolras' hair. Such ply, not made in Enjolras' usual demanding manner, threw him off guard. A simple request spoken so quietly and serenely made him feel twice as obliged to comply as thousands of orders would. He felt Enjolras shrug.

'Do you like art galleries Enjolras?' Enjolras should his head in reply. 'I do. They make me think.'

''bout what?' his lover asked, already drifting of to sleep.

'All sorts of things. About life. About society. About religion. The point is, that a good painting should make people think. Many forget that and focus solely on the aesthetical aspect of art. Now, I'm not saying that...' he continued to speak for a good hour or so even after Enjolras fell asleep.

He looked at the sleeping form of his lover. Asleep Enjolras seemed so delicate and boyish. Graced with serene and dreamy expression his feature grew even more feminine than usually. When he was not surrounded by aura of greatness and purpose he also seemed few inches shorter and good ten pounds lighter. It made Grantaire smile, but also deep down it scared him. It was a painful reminder of his god's mortality, and by extension of the fact that what he's trying to achieve will most likely get him killed.

He resolved not to think about it. Inhaling Enjolras' sweet smell and reveling in his warmth he fell asleep.

**A/N Hi!**

**I have two excuses for the general suckiness of this:**

**1. Not a native speaker, so probably grammatical mistakes.**

**2. My first time actually writing a fanfiction, so probably OCCness.**

**So, I'm actually posting this, so that other people can review my work, and tell what I should improve.**

**Let me know whether you like it or not. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

**I might do a companion peace to this from Enjolras' perspective, if anyone would be willing to read it.**

**Also, I'm not sure whether I rated it correctly. I rated it M, to be safe :)**


End file.
